Crutches, scooters, toilet bars, toilet seat heighteners, suction cup baskets and handles, rubber stockings and shower chairs. The list is endless. So is the frustration.
Welcome to my world.
I have learned a lot this past week. Mostly that I’m a big baby when it comes to adapting to the idea that I can do very little for myself. This is what happens when you opt in for a bunionectomy.
There is a whole market of items out there that can be bought or rented for anyone who has any kind of health issue. Some of this stuff is pretty funny. Allow me to share.
Sitting on a toilet-seat heightener is less convenient than it sounds. You get this weird sensation that you will fall off the damn thing or that you might get a nose bleed if you sit there too long. Not to mention the overwhelming feeling of pathetic desperation that comes over you when you realize that you actually need the stupid thing.
Crutches are a must but you hope and pray every night that you will never need to use them. They are super uncomfortable, clumsy and the leading cause of suspected homicides. I just made that up, but it makes perfect sense to me.
When I was handed my scooter my heart leaped for joy. I’d much rather relive my childhood on a push scooter than hobble recklessly on crutches. That is, until I did. They are spiffy little devices on four wheels that consist of a knee pad and handlebars with hand brakes. They are clumsy to maneuver, awkward to get in and out of small rooms and they threaten to tip over if you lean too much one way or the other. Yet, I can’t live without it. I was told that the reason insurance companies will not cover the cost of the scooters is because they are considered unstable, undependable and somewhat reckless. Seriously? If that’s the criteria to qualify for insurance then half the people I know wouldn’t be eligible. Just saying.
The toilet bars are a gift from the Gods. A dear blogging friend of mine in Ohio, who shall remain nameless (thank you Marci Rich!) clued me into the little mentioned fact that when you go to the bathroom with one leg in a cast, you may never be seen again. Damn if she wasn’t right. She advised me about these golden rods of mercy (bars that straddle the toilet seat so you can brace yourself on one leg and get up) and I thank her (under my breath) at least a dozen times a day
I’m a big fan of my new shower chair. Crazy the things that make me happy these days. Although sitting down to shower leaves me feeling less like the sexy minx I think I am and more like an incapable old woman. It also leaves me safe while I have just one leg to stand on. You never know, I may just keep this fabulous contraption and have lazy shower day parties.
I’m super excited about my blue rubber boot that keeps my cast dry. Without it I would be taking bird baths for 6 weeks, and that wouldn’t be good for anybody. Of course, putting the damn thing on easily takes 2 people, and a half a bottle of tequila. This may have something to do with why I like it so much.
Living in a 2 story house is not optimal for anything. I’ve come to that conclusion the hard way. My way of transport from the top floor to the bottom is on my butt. This careful method was recommended to me by my physician, Dr. Dreamy. What I didn’t know is that once you get to the top of the stairs, you have no way of reaching the top landing. Yet another piece of valuable information given to me by Goddess Marci Rich. These are conversations I’m going to have with God when my time comes. People should have been constructed like cats, so we could leap from a standing position. I mean, let’s be serious here. What human hasn’t needed that ability?
Today I got my second cast put on. I chose bright pink for the color. I figure I want people to see me coming so they can proactively avoid the catastrophe that is headed their way. I also got my first glimpse of my new foot with all the stitches and screw sticking out of the side. It made me feel sad. My foot has been traumatized beyond belief and I sit here and complain how hard it is to get along without it for 6 weeks.
All of these contraptions have made my life bearable this past week, and I’m grateful for every one of them. I am also super grateful to have such an awesome doctor who is easy on the eyes and actually listens to my whining. I’m quite sure that Dr. Dreamy (aka Dr. Hurless) didn’t know the bundle of nerves and drama he was up against when I sashayed into his office. I’ve got to give the man a gold star.
But the best thing I’ve got going for me is the wonderful man who has been faced with a bit more than he could chew, but is still going at it. It’s been tough going (for both of us) and I can’t wait to get to the end of this road. But what I’m learning about myself and him, well, that’s the kind of stuff that makes for better people and stronger relationships.
What’s not to love about that?